Off the Ice
by SilverTurtle
Summary: Julie thinks, a lot, then she lets her mouth run away without her brain . Mild femslash, why? Because I haven't found any others.


A/N: I haven't ever found a femslash Mighty Ducks fic so I decided to write one. It's not my fault though. I hadn't thought about this movie in years and then suddenly it's on cable three times in the same week and I catch it each time because there's nothing else on. I hope this encourages other, better, authors to write a better femslash story for this fandom. I'd look forward to reading it.

Disclaimer: They so don't belong to me. I only wish they did. I'd happily have Marguerite Moreau at my beck and call, she's foxy! She's also ten years my senior but so what, she's still hot.

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I watch Connie on the ice and am in awe of her. She moves so gracefully, despite the pads and gear. There is such a surety and assertiveness to her on the ice that I've never noticed her to have off of it. I love going against her on the ice, she provides one of the best challenges to my goal keeping skills. She's so fierce and intense on the ice, but so small seeming off of it. It's almost like she's two different people. And I love it.

Seeing her so strong and confident on the ice makes me believe in her, makes me sure that she can take care of herself. As soon as she's off the ice and out of the hockey gear though, I have the overwhelming urge to protect her from the rest of the world. It's silly, I know, because I've seen her handle herself and I know she can do it. But something in me sees her, so short and fragile seeming, and makes me want to take her in my arms and hide her from everything.

I wonder sometimes if that means there's something wrong with me. Why do I want to protect her so much? I know she can take care of business so why do I think she needs help? What is it about her that triggers these feelings in me? I don't know. I don't know what any of it means.

I do have a suspicion though. I think I'm in love with her. She's my best friend and roommate; she has been since I joined the Ducks against Iceland three years ago. I remember that game against Iceland, the final one. I saw her get slammed into the wall and I wanted to get out there and take that guy's head off for trying to hurt her. A panic had welled up in me that I didn't know I was capable of. I didn't know if she was hurt or not, all I saw was him slam into her and her go down. For a heart stopping moment she stayed flat on the ice, then she surged up and I could breathe again. When she'd been hit I had jumped to my feet and had wanted so badly to go see if she was alright, when she got back up I sank slowly back into my seat wishing I could get revenge on that stupid animal who'd checked her.

She's the only person in the world I've ever felt this protective over. I don't even fret over my little sisters this much. I wonder if that makes me a bad sister or a good friend…or something else entirely. I suppose I'd be a secret admirer. I mean, she doesn't know that I have feelings for her and I'm certainly not going to tell her!

I catch myself watching her all the time though and I wonder how she doesn't notice it. In class I'll have to force myself to look away from her at least three times, but my eyes always find their way back to her. She's so beautiful. She's kind of like a porcelain doll, made with care and hand painted with love. Her hair is the perfect chestnut color with chocolate tones, her eyes a bright hazel, and her skin a light tan. I wonder why more people don't see how perfect she is.

Guy had seen it for a while but he was dumb enough to leave her for the first big breasted blonde cheerleader to cross his path. She'd been devastated for weeks. The first week after he'd dumped her she was totally inconsolable. She would only leave our shared room to use the bathroom. I brought her food and tried to get her to eat with very little success. She spent days in her bed. It was just lucky hockey season was over.

After that first week she started coming to me when she was feeling bad. She would just give me this look like she wanted me to fix everything but knew I couldn't, and then she'd wrap her arms around my waist, bury her head in my shoulder and cry. She'd stay like that for hours, sometimes crying sometimes not but always shivering. I held her for as long as she wanted me to, figuring if she came to me for it I'd be damned if I didn't give it to her. I would wrap my arms around her, rubbing her hair or her back hoping to give her some comfort. I think I helped a little. I never said anything but I hated Guy for a long time for doing that to her.

Soon she started leaving the room for classes, for food, and to use the bathroom. Some days she would come back just fine, but others she would be crying. On those days I knew she'd seen Guy with whoever happened to be his toy for the week. She would climb onto my bed, where I'd be doing homework, sit beside me and lean her head on my shoulder with tears running down her face. I'd put anything I was doing aside and put my arms around her. We'd eventually end up sinking into a laying position and more often than not we'd fall asleep with her mostly on top of me.

He was her first love and while she knew it wouldn't last forever she hadn't expected it to be so painful an ending. He'd been an ass and she had deserved better. She got over it but I could see that it still pained her. The team would play pick up games and she'd always make sure to check Guy extra hard at least once, and she wasn't the only one. If I had the chance I did too, so did Charlie and Dwayne. None of us had wanted to see Connie hurt; she was just too good for that. A few months after Guy dumped her he'd left the team and moved with his family over seas.

She hasn't dated anyone since. I'm not sure if it's because she's afraid of getting hurt or something else, but I'm not complaining. I don't think I could handle seeing her with someone else now, especially since I've figured out that I have feelings for her. She and I hang out all the time. We go on shopping trips, to concerts, to restaurants, to school events; pretty much if I go out she's coming with me and vice versa. I love being this close to her.

I myself wouldn't even consider dating anyone if it wasn't Connie. I'd had a brief but meaningless relationship with one of the varsity players at our school after the Ducks had beat his team, but that had ended after two weeks…the only thing we'd had in common was hockey and that wasn't enough. Of course, for me to be dating Connie I'd have to tell her how I feel and she'd have to feel the same way…but things like that only happen to me in my dreams.

And boy do I have some wonderful dreams. I had this one where Connie and I were at a fair and I was looking through all of the booths of trinkets trying to find the perfect gift for her. I eventually found the perfect necklace and presented it to her and confessed my love to her. She had confessed her love back to me and we were just about to kiss when I was woken up by the alarm for a morning practice. It was highly frustrating that it had to end there, but thinking back on the dream throughout the rest of the day made me smile. Connie had asked me why I had such a goofy grin on my face and I'd told her that I'd had a really good dream. She'd laughed and said she'd had some like that too.

Sometimes she doesn't have good dreams though. In fact, she's had several episodes where her dreams cause her to scream and cry in her sleep and she always wakes afraid and shaking. She never tells me what happened in her dream, though I always ask hoping that one day she'll tell me. Usually when those bad dreams start I wake and try to comfort her before they get bad, sometimes I crawl into bed with her and hold her because that calms her immediately. The times that I don't wake up at her whimpers or cries she eventually startles herself awake and climbs into my bed, waking me accidentally, and I hold her trying to comfort her until we both fall back to sleep.

That's probably why I feel so protective of her. I know what she's like behind closed doors. While she may be confident on the ice she's terribly insecure off of it. She gets this look in her eyes sometimes when I'm watching her that I know means she's thinking of a past pain and it always makes me want to hold her. If we're in our room I do hold her. I get up and wrap her up in my arms. Sometimes she asks me why I do this and I say "you looked like you needed a hug", other times she just accepts the embrace.

I've caught her looking at me before, only once or twice though. Usually I'm too focused on some part of her, like her wrist, or her ankle, or her fingers, or her ear, or her shoulder, or the place where her shoulder meets her neck that I don't notice where she's looking. The times I do catch her looking I'm always surprised. I'm not all that special, not like she is, and I can't see why she'd be looking at me. I can only hope that she might feel the same way.

I'm watching her on the ice now once again marveling at her skill. I'm guarding one of the nets, Goldberg the other, and she's coming for me with the puck. I note that her puck handling has improved a lot over the years; I think Dwayne's been giving her lessons. She's moving the puck a lot faster than I thought she could and when she shoots I have a hard time catching it. Her improving gives me a sense of pride. I'm not sure why, but I feel somehow like her accomplishments are my own. Coach blows the whistle to signal the end of the scrimmage and practice. She takes off her helmet and says "I thought I had you that time, I was so close!" I tell her "You're right, that was close! I don't like having to move that fast!" We both laugh a little and head for the showers.

Once back in our room we're back into our comfortable banter mode, we'd developed it after the first week of our friendship when we were teasing each other; it still made us laugh to see which could top the other with the most outrageous tease. She usually won (she read a lot of comic books and had more material to draw from) but that didn't stop me from trying. I was trying to think of something to top her last remark when she asked "Julie, why do I catch you looking at me sometimes?"

I freeze, my brain stops functioning for a moment and out pops the ever intelligent "uh…" Good one Gaffney. She's looking at me; actually it's more like peering, trying to decipher the answers in my eyes.

She says "It doesn't bother me; I just wonder sometimes why you look. I mean, it's not like you're leering at me like some guys do. You're just looking, like you're contemplating a sculpture or something and it makes me want to know what you're thinking…I mean, I'm not very pretty and-"

"Yes you are!" I cut her off. "You are very pretty Connie. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Don't ever think you're not pretty! You're downright gorgeous!" I hadn't meant for that all to come out, I just didn't want her putting herself down. I can feel a hot blush turning my cheeks red as I suddenly find my shoes fascinating. She was blinking at me startled at my outburst.

"…Thank you…Julie" I look up at her and see the beginnings of tears in her eyes and it shocks me. Can my words really have meant so much to her?

"Why are you crying?" I panic thinking I'd said something wrong and I just want to make it right.

She gives me a watery smile as a tear leaks out "Because you just made me very happy."

"Connie…" I'm confused now. What is she talking about?

"No one has called me pretty in a long time, and hearing it from you means a lot to me."

"I didn't know it would mean so much…" I really didn't…how could it? Why would it?

"Neither did I. But I haven't been happy, truly happy, in a long time and you just took away a lot of the hurt I've been feeling."

"If I had known that telling you that would have made you feel better I'd have been telling you things like that everyday. I'd be telling you just what I've been thinking about you for the last three years! Connie, you're the most beautiful person I've ever known. Do you really want to know why you catch me looking at you sometimes? It's because I can hardly keep my eyes off of you. You're so perfect that sometimes I feel like I'm looking at a sculpture, an artists' master work. I don't know how you could possibly think you aren't pretty. I think about just how beautiful you are everyday. And not just in looks. You're so kind, and thoughtful, and helpful, and sweet, and smart, and funny, and…and perfect! And I just don't see how you or anyone else could think otherwise. I mean, you're just so…magnificent. I don't know why dozens of people aren't in love with you like I am but-"

"You're in love with me!" I think about what I just said and realize that yep, I really did just admit that…I hadn't meant to but it was out now. I look at her stunned my eyes wide and see that she's just smiling at me. A huge smile, the one she used to give when I first met her. The kind that makes my knees go week and my heart skip a beat. I come to a decision then. I'm not going to hide my feelings anymore…I'd just told her everything anyway!

"I am. I'm in love with you. I love Connie Moreau, and I have for a long time now." She squeals and tackles me onto my bed with her arms wrapped around my neck.

"Oh god Julie! I love you too." She kisses me once, hard. "I love you, I love you, I love you…" She's saying this like a mantra and all I can do is smile and kiss the top of her head as she nuzzles into my neck and my arms secure themselves around her lower back.

After a moment of snuggling she lifts her head then moves to support herself while hovering above me. She's got the biggest smile on her face and there's new light in her eyes and I'm struck once again with just how beautiful she is. And now that I don't have to hide anymore I come right out and say "I love you" looking her in the eyes and sporting a smile that matches hers.

She closes her eyes and lets the words wash over her. Tears are rolling down her cheeks but they don't cause me worry this time, I know she's happy now. "I love you too, Julie. I love you too." She kisses me softly this time, over and over and over, smiles curling both our lips.

I realized then that I hadn't been happy in a long time either. I had only been going through the motions until she brought out my passion for her when she tried to say she wasn't pretty. She'd brought out my protective side and accidentally forced me to confess my feelings.

I'm happy now though, ecstatic really. I love her, she loves me, and here we are, in our room, lying on my bed, kissing. We're both finally happy and everything is perfect.

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A/N: That's it for this one. I'm sure I could come up with another though. I've actually already got some ideas for a different plotline…a very short plotline but still…


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